De Suo In Lesbiam Amore Ep. 88.
DE SUO IN LESBIAM AMORE. EP. 88.
Nulla potest mulier tantum se dicere amatam
Vere, quantum a me Lesbia amata mea est;
Nulla fides ullo fuit unquam faedere tanta,
Quanta in amore suo ex parte reperta mea est.
ENGLISHED.
No one can boast her self so much belov'd,
Truely as Lesbia my affections prov'd;
No faith was ere with such a firm knot bound,
As in my love on my part I have found.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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De Quintia Et Sesbia. Ep. 87
DE QUINTIA ET LESBIA. EP. 87.
Quintia formosa est multis, mihi candida, longa,
Recta est; haec ego sic singula confiteor:
Tota illud formosa nego: nam multa venustas;
Nulla in tam magno est corpore mica salis.
Lesbia formosa est quae, cum pulcherrima tota est,
Tum omnibus una omneis surripuit veneres.
ENGLISHED.
Quintia is handsome, fair, tall, straight: all these
Very particulars I grant with ease:
But she all ore 's not handsome; here's her fault:
In all that bulk there's not one corne of salt,
Whilst Lesbia, fair and handsome too all ore,
All graces and all wit from all hath bore.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Gioventu E Signoria
E GIOVINE il signore,
Ed ama molte cose,—
I canti, le rose,
La forza e l'amore.
Quel che più vuole
Ancor non osa:
Ahi più che il sole,
Più ch' ogni rosa,
La cara cosa,
Donna a gioire.
È giovine il signore,
Ed ama quelle cose
Che ardor dispose
In cuore all' amore.
Bella fanciulla,
Guardalo in viso;
Non mancar nulla,
Motto o sorriso;
Ma viso a viso
Guarda a gradire.
E giovine il signore,
Ed ama tutte cose,
Vezzose, giojose,
Tenenti all' amore.
Prendilo in braccio
Adesso o mai;
Per più mi taccio,
Chè tu lo sai;
Bacialo e l'avrai,
Ma non lo dire.
È giovine il signore,
Ed ama ben le cose
Che Amor nascose,
Che mostragli Amore.
Deh trionfando
Non farne pruova;
Ahimè! che quando
Gioja più giova,
Allor si trova
Presso al finire.
E giovine il signore,
Ed ama tante cose,
Le rose, le spose,
Quante gli dona Amore.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Amore
It's like the ocean baby
You make me feel so sexy
Love so understanding
For only you I'm waiting
You turn me on
My love is on and on and
You touch me makes me crazy
I feel your body and me
It's like the ocean at sea
My love is never ending
You and me
It's like a dream my baby
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on and on
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on
It's like the wind beneath me
The passion flows so freely
Close to you I get free
Whenever you fill my needs
I turn you on
My love is on and on and
I feel it all in my knees
And I know how good it will be
It's like the wind beneath me
My love is never ending
You and me
It's like a dream my baby
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on and on
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True of False
NONE could ever say that she,
Lesbia! was so loved by me.
Never all the world around
Faith so true as mind was found.
If no longer it endures
(Would it did!) the fault is yours.
I can never think again
Well of you: I try in vain.
But . . . be false . . . do what you will-
Lesbia! I must love you still.
poem by Gaius Valerius Catullus
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In Lesbiam Cat. Ep. 76.
IN LESBIAM CAT. EP. 76.
Huc est mens deducta tua, mea Lesbia, culpa,
Atque ita se officio perdidit ipsa suo.
Ut jam nec bene velle queam tibi, si optima sias:
Nec desistere amare, omnia si facias.
ENGLISHED.
By thy fault is my mind brought to that pass,
That it its office quite forgotten has:
For be'est thou best, I cannot wish thee well,
And be'est thou worst, then I must love thee still.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Ad Lesbiam, Cat. Ep. 73
AD LESBIAM, CAT. EP. 73.
Dicebas quondam, solum to nosse Catullum,
Lesbia, nec prae me velle tenere Jovem;
Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut vulgus amicam,
Sed pater ut gnatos diligit et generos.
Nunc te cognovi, quare et impensius uror,
Multo mi tamen es vilior et levior.
Qui potis est inquis, quod amantem injuria talis
Cogat amare magis, sed bene velle minus?
Odi et amo; quare id faciam, fortasse requiris;
Nescio; sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.
ENGLISHED.
That me alone you lov'd, you once did say,
Nor should I to the king of gods give way.
Then I lov'd thee not as a common dear,
But as a father doth his children chear.
Now thee I know, more bitterly I smart;
Yet thou to me more light and cheaper art.
What pow'r is this? that such a wrong should press
Me to love more, yet wish thee well much lesse.
I hate and love; would'st thou the reason know?
I know not; but I burn, and feel it so.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Dove Sta Amore
Dove sta amore
Where lies love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
In lyrical delight
Hear love's hillsong
Love's true willsong
Love's low plainsong
Too sweet painsong
In passages of night
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
The ring dove love
Dove sta amore
Here lies love
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Love So High
Every morning I would wake up
And I'd tie the sun around a cup
And I felt your love higher than the sky
No one in this world but you and I
Had tasted love so sweet
You held me in your arms
Softer than in the rain
Mi amore my love never dies
Mi amore look into my eyes
We had a love so high
I could never walk away
A love so high
I could reach out and touch the sky
Tell me why
I said a little prayer for you and I
A love so high
Now I wake up in the middle of the night
Your face in front of my
Like a candle burning brighter than the flame
And I see everything inside your eyes
Your smile your touch your alibis
And I wish that you could be with me all night
Mi amore I wish that I could fly
Mi amore look into my eyes
Tell me why
I can't see you anymore
Time's ticking away
I still want you everyday
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Puro Amore
Di te
Odio l'amore che
Forse non sai cos'
Ora che tutto tace, tra noi
Odio di te
Quello che non capisci
Quello che non mi dici
Quello che tieni dentro di te
Yeah Yeah eeee...SOLO AMORE
Quanto sangue e quanto cuore avr per te
Yeah Yeah eeee...PURO AMORE
Non c' niente da capire non c'
Di te
Ancora sopravvivo
L'Inferno e il Paradiso
Oltre le stelle argento lo sai
Odio di te
Quella che vuol passare e sai
Che non mi passerai
Quella che non si fida di noi
Yeah Yeah eeee...SOLO AMORE
Quanto sangue e quanto cuore avr per te
Yeah Yeah eeee...PURO AMORE
Non c' niente da capire non c'
Polvere di sole t'inganna, forse non mi vedi
Questo troppo amore t'appanna, forse non mi credi
Yeah Yeah eeee...SOLO AMORE
Quanto sangue e quanto cuore avr per te
Yeah Yeah eeee...PURO AMORE
Non c' niente da capire non c'
Yeah Yeah eeee...SOLO AMORE
E non c' niente da capire, non c'
Di te,
Odio l'amore che
Forse tu sai cos
song performed by by Zucchero
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Circle Of Amour
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Best friends as far as I could tell
Chearleaders except 4 denise
She was the wild one
She was the beast
She was the one who named the group
The original gang of 4
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Circle of amore
10th grade central in september
That was a year I remember
On this chilly cold afternoon
I overheard the gang in the locker room
Rendezvous, marys house
Dirty words and wine
Needless 2 say they all spend the day
Just counting time, counting time
Halfway through her history class
Denise she kindly raised her hand and asked
If she could be excused (can I be excused? )
Then she ran from school (ran from school) in a hurry,
The other girls, ooh they knew
This is what friends are really 4
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Circle of amore
Circle of amore
Imagination showed a window (imagination)
On a cold september day (ooh)
Leaves are brown (brown), passion sounds (ooh)
Memory self astray
4 hands in the place where the feet connect
(gang of 4)
Circle of sex
In the vicious race 2 maturity
Theyre almost phased from ecstasy
Sweat upon the necks of dames
Loser in the circle game
Cause memories r worth so much more (so much more)
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Circle of amore
(ooh)
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Circle of amore
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Mary, claire, denise and belle
Circle of amore
Circle of amore
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sun King
[italian lyrics broken down phoenetically]
Here comes the sun king
Here comes the sun king
Everybody's laughing
Everybody's happy
Here comes the sun king
Quando paramucho mi amore de felice carathon
Mundo paparazzi mi amore cicce verdi parasol
Questo abrigado tantamucho que canite carousel
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corri Vai Da Lui
Come f
Senza le mani tue
Io non riesco pi a sognare
Tu sei con me
Che cose
Questo freddo tra noi
Io non riesco pi a volare
Oh dimmi per
Tu te ne vai
E sai gi dove andare
Fuggi da chi
Ti ha fatto innamorare
Corri vai da lui - io non soffro
Se non ce pi amore
Corri vai da lui - non ti ferm
Non fa (pi) male al cuore-no-no-no-no
Corri vai da lui
Dove non ce amore
Corri vai da lui - io non soffro
Non fa (pi) male al cuore-no-no-no-no
Vento che vai
Porta via il ricordo
Le mie lacrime di sale
Non fanno pi male
Mi muov
Nella notte pi scura
Io che avevo dentro il cuore
Solo grande paura
Tu te ne vai
E sai gi dove andare
Fuggi da chi
Ti ha fatto innamorare
Corri vai da lui - io non soffro
Se non ce pi amore
Corri vai da lui - non ti ferm
Non fa (pi) male al cuore-no-no-no-no
Corri vai da lui
Dove non ce amore
Corri vai da lui - io non soffro
Non fa (pi) male al cuore-no-no-no-no
song performed by by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Sarajevo
Is there a time for keeping distance
A time to turn your eyes away
Is there a time for keeping your head down
For getting on with your day
Is there a time for kohl and lipstick
A time for cutting hair
Is there a time for high street shopping
To find the right dress to wear
Here she comes
Heads turn around
Here she comes
To take her crown
Is there a time to walk for cover
A time for kiss and tell
Is there a time for different colors
Different names you find it hard to spell
Is there a time for first communion
A time for east 17
Is there a time to turn the mecca
Is there a time to be a beauty queen
Here she comes
Beauty plays the crown
Here she comes
Surreal in her crown
(Pavarotti)
Dici che il fiume
trova la via al mare
E come il fiume
giungerai a me
Oltre i confini
e le terre assetate
Dici che come fiume
come fiume
L'amore giunger
L'amore
E non so pi pregare
E nell'amore non so pi sperare
E quell'amore non so pi aspettare
English translation:
You say that the river
finds the way to the sea
And as the river
you'll come to me
Beyond the borders
and the thirsty lands
You say that as river
As river
Love will come
Love
And I cannot pray anymore
And I cannot hope in love anymore
And I cannot wait for love anymore
(Bono)
Is there a time for tying ribbons
A time for Christmas trees
Is there a time for laying tables
When the night is set to freeze
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Senecae Ex Cleanthe
SENECAE EX CLEANTHE.
Duc me, Parens celsique Dominator poli,
Quocunque placuit, nulla parendi mora est;
Adsum impiger; fac nolle, comitabor gemens,
Malusque patiar facere, quod licuit bono.
Ducunt volentem Fata, nolentem trahunt.
ENGLISHED.
Parent and Prince of Heav'n, O lead, I pray,
Where ere you please, I follow and obey.
Active I go, sighing, if you gainsay,
And suffer bad what to the good was law.
Fates lead the willing, but unwilling draw.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Barcarola
PER carità,
Mostrami amore:
Mi punge il cuore,
Ma non si sa
Dove è amore.
Che mi fa
La bella età,
Sè non si sa
Come amerà?
Ahi me solingo!
Il cuor mi stringo!
Non più ramingo,
Per carità!
Per carità,
Mostra mi il cielo:
Tutto è un velo,
E non si sa
Dove è il cielo.
Se si sta
Così colà,
Non si sa
Se non si va.
Ahi me lontano!
Tutto è in vano!
Prendimi in mano,
Per carità!
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Catullus and His Lesbia
Sweet Lesbia, hold me in your arms,
give me kisses without ceasing.
Your husband fights in Caesar's cause
and is no challenge in deceiving.
Your smooth white shoulders, beautiful,
that never see the Sun.
They are a feast for this poets' eyes
when your stola comes undone.
Beneath your tunica intima
are sweet breasts that fed your child.
I hope you'll bare them to my lips
in just a little while.
The shadows of the autumn Sun
creep clear across the room.
but Lesbia's sweet smile is enough
to brighten up the gloom.
Great Pompey has been put to rout,
Caesar claims the curule chair.
Outside the World has gone to Hades
Not that this poet cares.
For Lesbia is world enough
to treasure and explore.
If more were of my frame of mind
what need had men for war?
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Amore
C'ho un mal di schiena che nom
mi fa dormire
da ieri sera ce l'ho
voglio morire.
Ti prego fammi un favore
chiamami un dottore...
Amore!
Quel mal di schiena poi... ohi
non passa ancora
da ieri l'altro ce l'ho
la vita dura
ti prego fammi un piacere
fammi una "puntura"...
Mia cara!
Amore!
C'ho un mal di schiena che non
mi fa dormire
da ieri l'altro ce l'ho
voglio morire
ti prego fammi un favore
chiamami un dottore
fammi una "puntura"
insomma dammi qualcosa...
Mia cara!
Mia cara!
Amore!....
song performed by by Vasco Rossi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quia Amore Langeuo
In a valley of this restles mind
I sought in mountain and in mead,
Trusting a true love for to find.
Upon an hill then took I heed;
A voice I heard (and near I yede)
In great dolour complaining tho:
See, dear soul, how my sides bleed
Quia amore langueo.
Upon this hill I found a tree,
Under a tree a man sitting;
From head to foot wounded was he;
His hearte blood I saw bleeding:
A seemly man to be a king,
A gracious face to look unto.
I asked why he had paining:
Quia amore langueo.
I am true love that false was never;
My sister, man's soul, I loved her thus.
Because we would in no wise dissever
I left my kingdom glorious.
I purveyed her a palace full precious;
She fled, I followed, I loved her so
That I suffered this pain piteous
Quia amore langueo.
My fair love and my spouse bright!
I saved her from beating, and she hath me bet;
I clothed her in grace and heavenly light;
This bloody shirt she hath on me set;
For longing of love yet would I not let;
Sweet strokes are these: lo!
I have loved her ever as I her het
Quia amore langueo.
I crowned her with bliss and she me with thorn;
I led her to chamber and she me to die;
I brought her to worship and she me to scorn;
I did her reverence and she me villany.
To love that loveth is no maistry;
Her hate made never my love her foe
Ask me then no question why -
Quia amore langueo.
Look unto mine handes, man!
These gloves were given me when I her sought;
They be not white, but red and wan;
Embroidered with blood my spouse them brought.
They will not off; I loose hem nought:
I woo her with hem wherever she go.
These hands for her so friendly fought
Quia amore langueo.
Marvel not, man, though I sit still.
See, love hath shod me wonder strait:
Buckled my feet, as was her will,
With sharp nails (well thou may'st wait!)
In my love was never desait;
All my membres I have opened her to;
My body I made her herte's bait
Quia amore langueo.
In my side I have made her nest;
Look in, how wet a wound is here!
This is her chamber, here shall she rest,
That she and I may sleep in fere.
Here may she wash, if any filth were;
Here is seat for all her woe;
Come when she will, she shall have cheer
Quia amore langueo.
I will abide till she be ready,
I will her sue if she say nay;
If she be retchless I will be greedy,
If she be dangerous I will her pray;
If she weep, then bide I ne may:
Mine arms ben spread to clip her me to.
Cry once, I come: now, soul, assay!
Quia amore langueo.
Fair love, let us go play:
Apples ben ripe in my gardayne.
I shall thee clothe in a new array,
Thy meat shall be milk, honey and wine.
Fair love, let us go dine:
Thy sustenance is in my crippe, lo!
Tarry thou not, my fair spouse mine,
Quia amore langueo.
If thou be foul, I shall thee make clean;
If thou be sick, I shall thee heal;
If thou mourn ought, I shall thee mene;
Why wilt thou not, fair love, with me deal?
Foundest thou ever love so leal?
What wilt thou, soul, that I shall do?
I may not unkindly thee appeal,
Quia amore langueo.
What shall I do now with my spouse
But abide her of my gentleness,
Till that she look out of her house
Of fleshly affection? love mine she is;
Her bed is made, her bolster is bliss,
Her chamber is chosen; is there none mo.
Look out on me at the window of kindeness,
Quia amore langueo.
My love is in her chamber: hold your peace!
Make ye no noise, but let her sleep.
My babe I would not were in disease,
I may not hear my dear child weep.
With my pap I shall her keep;
Ne marvel ye not though I tend her to:
This wound in my side had ne'er been so deep
Quia amore langueo.
Long thou for love never so high,
My love is more than thine may be.
Thou weepest, thou gladdest, I sit thee by:
Yet wouldst thou once, love, look unto me!
Should I always feede thee
With children meat? Nay, love, not so!
I will prove thy love with adversite,
Quia amore langueo.
Wax not weary, mine own wife!
What mede is aye to live in comfort?
In tribulation I reign more rife
Ofter times than in disport.
In weal and in woe I am aye to support:
Mine own wife, go not me fro!
Thy mede is marked, when thou art mort:
Quia amore langueo.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lesbia Hath a Beaming Eye
Lesbia hath a beaming eye,
But no one knows for whom it beameth;
Right and left its arrows fly,
But what they aim at no one dreameth.
Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon
My Nora's lid that seldom rises;
Few its looks, but every one,
Like unexpected light, surprises!
Oh, my Nora Creina, dear,
My gentle, bashful Nora Creina,
Beauty lies
In many eyes,
But Love in yours, my Nora Creina.
Lesbia wears a robe of gold,
But all so close the nymph hath laced it,
Not a charm of beauty's mould
Presumes to stay where Nature placed it.
Oh! my Nora's gown for me,
That floats as wild as mountain breezes,
Leaving every beauty free
To sink or swell as Heaven pleases.
Yes, my Nora Creina, dear,
My simple, graceful Nora Creina,
Nature's dress
Is loveliness --
The dress you wear, my Nora Creina.
Lesbia hath a wit refined,
But, when its points are gleaning round us,
Who can tell if they're design'd
To dazzle merely, or to wound us?
Pillow'd on my Nora's heart,
In safer slumber Love reposes --
Bed of peace! whose roughest part
Is but the crumpling of the roses.
Oh! my Nora Creina, dear,
My mild, my artless Nora Creina!
Wit, though bright,
Hath no such light
As warms your eyes, my Nora Creina.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Quia Amore Langueo
IN a valley of this restles mind
I sought in mountain and in mead,
Trusting a true love for to find.
Upon an hill then took I heed;
A voice I heard (and near I yede)
In great dolour complaining tho:
See, dear soul, how my sides bleed
Quia amore langueo.
Upon this hill I found a tree,
Under a tree a man sitting;
From head to foot wounded was he;
His hearte blood I saw bleeding:
A seemly man to be a king,
A gracious face to look unto.
I asked why he had paining;
[He said,] Quia amore langueo.
I am true love that false was never;
My sister, man's soul, I loved her thus.
Because we would in no wise dissever
I left my kingdom glorious.
I purveyed her a palace full precious;
She fled, I followed, I loved her so
That I suffered this pain piteous
Quia amore langueo.
My fair love and my spouse bright!
I saved her from beating, and she hath me bet;
I clothed her in grace and heavenly light;
This bloody shirt she hath on me set;
For longing of love yet would I not let;
Sweete strokes are these: lo!
I have loved her ever as I her het
Quia amore langueo.
I crowned her with bliss and she me with thorn;
I led her to chamber and she me to die;
I brought her to worship and she me to scorn;
I did her reverence and she me villany.
To love that loveth is no maistry;
Her hate made never my love her foe:
Ask me then no question why--
Quia amore langueo.
Look unto mine handes, man!
These gloves were given me when I her sought;
They be not white, but red and wan;
Embroidered with blood my spouse them brought.
They will not off; I loose hem nought;
I woo her with hem wherever she go.
These hands for her so friendly fought
Quia amore langueo.
Marvel not, man, though I sit still.
See, love hath shod me wonder strait:
Buckled my feet, as was her will,
With sharpe nails (well thou may'st wait!)
In my love was never desait;
All my membres I have opened her to;
My body I made her herte's bait
Quia amore langueo.
In my side I have made her nest;
Look in, how weet a wound is here!
This is her chamber, here shall she rest,
That she and I may sleep in fere.
Here may she wash, if any filth were;
Here is seat for all her woe;
Come when she will, she shall have cheer
Quia amore langueo.
I will abide till she be ready,
I will her sue if she say nay;
If she be retchless I will be greedy,
If she be dangerous I will her pray;
If she weep, then bide I ne may:
Mine arms ben spread to clip her me to.
Cry once, I come: now, soul, assay
Quia amore langueo.
Fair love, let us go play:
Apples ben ripe in my gardayne.
I shall thee clothe in a new array,
Thy meat shall be milk, honey and wine.
Fair love, let us go dine:
Thy sustenance is in my crippe, lo!
Tarry thou not, my fair spouse mine,
Quia amore langueo.
If thou be foul, I shall thee make clean;
If thou be sick, I shall thee heal;
If thou mourn ought, I shall thee mene;
Why wilt thou not, fair love, with me deal?
Foundest thou ever love so leal?
What wilt thou, soul, that I shall do?
I may not unkindly thee appeal
Quia amore langueo.
What shall I do now with my spouse
But abide her of my gentleness,
Till that she look out of her house
Of fleshly affection? love mine she is;
Her bed is made, her bolster is bliss,
Her chamber is chosen; is there none mo.
Look out on me at the window of kindeness
Quia amore langueo.
My love is in her chamber: hold your peace!
Make ye no noise, but let her sleep.
My babe I would not were in disease,
I may not hear my dear child weep.
With my pap I shall her keep;
Ne marvel ye not though I tend her to:
This wound in my side had ne'er be so deep
But Quia amore langueo.
Long thou for love never so high,
My love is more than thine may be.
Thou weepest, thou gladdest, I sit thee by:
Yet wouldst thou once, love, look unto me!
Should I always feede thee
With children meat? Nay, love, not so!
I will prove thy love with adversite
Quia amore langueo.
Wax not weary, mine own wife!
What mede is aye to live in comfort?
In tribulation I reign more rife
Ofter times than in disport.
In weal and in woe I am aye to support:
Mine own wife, go not me fro!
Thy mede is marked, when thou art mort:
Quia amore langueo.